nexus_crossings | NEW ARRIVAL :: AN UNDERCOVER COP, NERD, AND ALL AROUND DISASTER

NEW ARRIVAL :: AN UNDERCOVER COP, NERD, AND ALL AROUND DISASTER

Freddy’s pretty sure he’s dead. He’d like to believe everything – the heist, the getaway, the bloodbath back at the rendezvous – was just a fucked up dream. He’d like to. There’s no hole in his cheek, no bullets in his gut, but he’s still wearing the same clothes – black suit, white shirt, and black tie – and they’re still soaked with blood. There’s blood in his hair, splattered across his face, and coating his hands.

He’s sitting on the curb outside of something that resembles the type of cheap convenience store familiar to someone from Los Angeles during the late 20th century. Next to him is an open bag of Doritos, four empty bottles of shitty beer, plus two more unopened bottles of that same shitty brand... and also a welcoming pamphlet.

While he’s not exactly feeling any better than he was when he first woke up, the alcohol is at least helping him settle into a sort of numbness. He opens the pamphlet and reads. Most of it fails to register.

‘Do you have a question for the Nexus?’ the pamphlet says.

‘What the fuck?’ is all that comes to mind. He sighs and rubs his temple, before burying his face in his arms. It's been a long goddamn day. Thinking it over though, he does actually have a question:

“Does everyone who dies get sent here? Or is it just like”–his voice still sounds hoarse, so he coughs into his fist and clears his throat–“only certain ones?”

He tries to brush his hair back, but his bangs just flop back into his face. He opens another bottle. Don't worry, he’s not going to cry or whine about shit. He may be a hot fucking mess, but he’s still a tough guy, okay?

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There's the sound of approaching boots on the pavement before someone stops to stare down at him. In this case, 'someone' is a young man wearing some kind of medieval armor made from layers of toughened leather and ending in an armored skirt that goes to his knees. The burlap hood he's wearing makes it a little harder to see his face, but his eyes are sharp as he gives Freddy a long look.

In his current frame of mind, Felix almost didn't take any notice of one more slumped and bewildered figure here. But. That question interests him.

"I beg your pardon," he says pleasantly, lightly. There's a gentle accent Freddy won't recognize. "But I take it from your question that you died? Recently?"

Perhaps Felix is always soft-spoken and polite. Perhaps he noticed that Freddy looks fucking terrified. He’s not used to people walking around in fucking armor. Let alone the fact that the guy also wears a hood over his face? Like some kind of medieval executioner straight out of a fucking nightmare? It freaks him out. His mind’s been in dark places lately, and this is like a bad trip.

He lets out a shaky breath when Felix speaks. At least the guy’s voice seems normal and non-threatening, weird accent aside. “Yeah man,” he says, laughing a little dryly and picking at one of the bullet holes in the front of his shirt. “I think that's safe to fucking say.”

He takes a long drink from the open bottle. Is there a reason Felix asked? Is it bad to have died recently? Should he have lied? He's anxious as hell, but trying hard to play it cool.

Edited 2017-07-21 23:51 (UTC)

Felix is, generally, a pleasantly-spoken kind of guy. Unfortunately for Freddy he's not quite as genuinely pleasant just now, but having something nasty whispering in your head will do that to you.

On the upside his hood is only face-shadowing than face-concealing, and he pushes it back a bit when he crouches down to take a look at the man. He doesn't look like he's slept in about five days but otherwise Felix is just a normal-looking guy. With weird taste in outfits, admittedly...

"You're wounded? Are you still bleeding? That all looks quite dry... do you feel any pain? Currently?" His attention is now tracking the bottle. Drinking. Interesting. It takes a moment or two before his better nature kicks him. The man's afraid. He should do something about that.

"Oh, there's nothing to be afraid of. Don't worry. You're quite safe here." Felix gives a friendly smile. He's always been good at radiating amicable harmlessness. It would be more convincing if he hadn't switched it on like a lightbulb just there.

Well, now he just feels stupid. He hadn’t realized the man was young, and yes, apparently just a regular guy who happens to be from somewhere different. The pamphlet did mention something about that.

“I’m not afraid,” he says, like it’s not exactly what someone afraid would say. He’s a fantastic liar, when feeling 100 percent – but a mediocre one when not. “I’m fine, not in any pain," he reassures. "Just really fucking-” he wants to say ‘tired’ or maybe ‘depressed as hell’ but no, he’s not going to talk about feelings, “-pissed off I left those motherfuckers alive.”

Complete bullshit that he regrets saying as soon as it leaves his mouth. He knows he died a sniveling, piece of shit rat. He lights a cigarette with shaky hands, and redirects his eyes to Felix’s. “Thank you, though.”

He is sincere about that. He can tell that the other guy's tired, and probably has other shit to do than deal with dead newcomers. But Freddy also noticed him watching the bottle, so he’s hopeful when he asks, “Do you want a beer, man?”

Felix nods along sympathetically. Who wants to die and leave their enemies still standing, right? He gets that. He absolutely does. He's studying Freddy carefully, glancing at the cigarette. It takes a second to realize he's being offered something and then he just looks puzzled.

"Why?" He pauses, shakes his head. It seems to snap him back to reality a little. "Sorry- I'm rather distracted of late. I'd kill for a beer, actually. Thanks."

An overture of friendship. An offering. An opening. Excellent.

“Why what?” He looks equally puzzled, and then relieved. While he doesn’t exactly mind sitting here being generally pathetic by himself – it is a new place, and he honestly has no idea what the fuck to do with himself. And although nervous and wary, he’ll still latch onto anyone who’s even halfway nice.

And if there’s anything that's a little off about Felix, well, he said he’s distracted. Probably comes from some crazy ass world where everyone’s constantly exhausted from fighting off hoards of the undead or something. He pops open the last of the beers, passing it to Felix. It’s not particularly good; Freddy’s taste in most things, including alcohol, is quite questionable.

He takes a drag from the cigarette. “So, are you dead too?” It’s not a question he ever expected to ask.

Felix sits down beside him and sips the beer he's handed. It elicits a bit of a grimace, though on balance he dismisses the quality and just drinks. If this is what passes for beer in this man's realm, he'll deal with it.

"Me?" He laughs. "No. Not at all. Just a curious mage. Tell me," another slug of beer, because whatever the taste he does need it, "when you died, what do you remember? After the fatal wounds and all that. How did you get here?"

“I dunno… It was just lights on, lights off...” And then lights on again. He doesn’t remember how it happened at all, but he doesn’t want to completely disappoint a curious mage. “Next thing I know, there are colors again. But nothing solid, nothing lasting. It was sort of like when you’re trippin’ real hard and don’t know whether your eyes are open or shut? I don’t know if you know what I mean...” He’s making it up as he goes along, hence why he’s sticking mainly to subjective details. He’s drawing a lot of inspiration from a time about ten years ago, when someone gave him too many shrooms, and he thought he was going to die. “But suddenly, I wasn’t afraid anymore. The pain was all gone, and my body felt relaxed, like I was just -- floating.

And then to the left of me, there was a sunlit field, with a deer that watched me without moving, even when I got real fuckin’ close and reached out to pet her like--” he reaches out, demonstrating a gentle tap on an imaginary animal. “But things get fuzzy after that. I can only remember walking, until eventually there were buildings and people around... Sorry, there’s lots of gaps in my memory. Eventually, I just woke up lying in the street over that way.” He points out the direction. “I dunno, man. I don’t know what was real and what was just from a fucking shit ton of chemicals flooding my brain while I bled out."

Felix lowers the bottle and listens carefully. So carefully. Clearly being a mage doesn't give you the ability to immediately detect bullshitting, because he's taking in every detail. Even with Freddy's caveat about not knowing what was real.

"Interesting." He seems sincere about that. He takes another drink of the beer and doesn't even react to the taste this time. "That's very interesting. Are deer important wherever you're from? Are you- were you a hunter?"

“Where I’m from is a real big city without a lot of animals or trees, so maybe deers are like... representative of something we lost as a culture?” Innocence? Gentleness? A connection with Mother Nature? He’s got no idea... For what it’s worth, despite his job, Freddy is not actually a compulsive liar. Just someone with a need to please, even total strangers.

“A hunter? No way,” he laughs a little. Killing animals for sport is not something he’d enjoy, much as he likes guns. “I was a cop.” With that, he takes a drink from his own bottle. He’s unsure whether cops are even something they'd have in whatever medieval fantasy land Felix is from, so he explains: “You know, like law enforcement? Keeping people safe from bad guys.” It’s said unenthusiastically, without pride.

Felix makes a disappointed noise into his bottle. It's not Freddy's fault, the mage just can't make immediate sense of that and he's easily frustrated of late. Though the rest does get him to twist around and look Freddy up and down properly.

"A guardsman? You? Well, we have, ah, cops here, actually. You should speak to Sheriff Rosco Coltrane about work." Freddy's lack of enthusiasm for his job is either missed or disregarded. Maybe because, as he adds, "In fact, I'm one of his bosses."

It does seem a bizarre choice for a man as unintimidating and childish as Freddy. He'd been about to make another go at explaining nature's place in late 20th century urban America, but falls silent with the rather intense response to his career. So the guy's a cop, huh?

"Um, yeah," he says, unsure of how else to respond. He was with the LAPD for nearly ten years, but he can't imagine doing anything like that again, especially not right now. He's looking down at his beer as he mumbles, "Thanks, I'll be sure to do that...”

He drops his cigarette on the pavement, standing and stubbing it out with the toe of his shoe. “Do you want another beer, man? I’m going to go get us some more beer. I’ll be right back.” A big friendly grin, before he disappears inside the store, without giving Felix time to object.

To call Felix a cop probably requires stretching the term even for a guy from a medieval-style fantasy world. For that matter, he's officially a soldier and saying that is a stretch. But he is interested in the little Nexus police force taking root and proving a valuable investment. And what else would a displaced guardsman want but an offer of work?

Well, more beer is a priority apparently. That doesn't seem too unreasonable, though it does get a muffled noise of complaint from Felix, mid-way through trying to finish his bottle. Don't go, he's not done with you yet!

He twists around to peer after Freddy, frowning as the door swings shut. Perhaps he's just overawed by Felix's amazing recruitment pitch? Anyway, he said he's coming back. Though given the mage's current state, if Freddy takes too long he's likely to forget why he's waiting and wander after him. He's pretty much already forgotten the cop thing.

It’s only a couple of minutes before he returns. Never mind that he probably won’t drink much more, as he’s actually rather a lightweight. It’s only fear, shock, and despair keeping him as sober as he is.

It probably also wasn’t a good idea to spend anymore cash since he doesn’t have that much of it, and will be needing a place to stay. Getting away from discussing a future in the Nexus County Police Department had been his priority though, even if Felix was clearly well meaning.

“Here you go, dude,” he says, plopping down next to Felix again, with two more bottles. If Felix thought that first kind was disagreeable, wait until he tries this stuff. Given that Freddy hadn’t actually wanted to spend any money, he just bought the cheapest stuff they had: malt liquor. He looks over at Felix, noticing again how tired the mage seems. “Hey, you alright?”

It might sound odd coming from a man covered from head to toe with his own blood, but he doesn’t want to resume their previous conversation, lest he have to explain all the ways he fucked up and consequently shouldn’t be allowed to protect and serve ever again.

Felix opens the bottle he's handed, though his eyes aren't on it at all. It's a familiar motion; it doesn't take thought. Doesn't distract from where his mind has really gone.

"I wonder what you are," he says, voice soft with thought. "You say you're dead. What does a man from Earth know about that?" He twists around again, open bottle forgotten in his hand and eyes sharp again, locking onto Freddy. "Let me just take a look at you and see."

It's almost a request, the way it ought to be, but purple light is already flickering around his other hand when he lifts it from the paving stones to Freddy's chest.

What does Felix think his reaction to that is going to be?

Freddy flinches, hard. The movement knocks over his open bottle, so now he’s covered in blood and beer. It hardly registers, at this point. He’s kind of curled up into a ball, pathetically trying to shield himself with his arms. He doesn’t do anything to actually try and defend himself, though–because he’s not entirely sure whether or not Felix’s intent is actually violent.

“What the fuck,” he gasps, once he’s recovered enough to speak.

It's safe to infer Felix wasn't giving a lot of thought to how Freddy would feel here at all. There's a brief, strange sensation, like something tugging very weakly at his whole body. And then it's just the mage peering at him with a sort of puzzled concern.

"Relax, you're fine." Felix blinks at him, then at his own hand before it drops again. Freddy's unexpectedly strong reaction seems to have snapped him out of whatever train of thought he was so fixed on. "I just- uh. Wanted to check. I thought you might be dead. Undead. But you aren't," he adds reassuringly. "You're perfectly... normal. A normal living soul, I think."

He's rather disappointed. Though he shouldn't be sorry about that, should he? That's good.

“Yeah, asshole!” he snaps. “I may not have a degree in medicine, but I think that’s what having a pulse generally fucking means.”

A sigh. He wasn't actually so sure about being alive, and it is reassuring to hear someone confirm that he’s not a zombie. But still, Felix needs to know it's not okay to just suddenly spring magic on Earth people who aren't used to seeing shit like that.

Felix stares at him with a sort of blank look for a second, then brightens up.

"Well, isn't that good news!" He lifts his bottle as if to toast, then realizes Freddy's got knocked over somehow. Oh dear. He frowns and presses the one he's holding on the other man. He's getting up. "Here, you'll need this."

“What?” He’s taken aback by that reaction, suspecting that Felix may be fucking with him. Maybe he should yell at him some more, but instead, he just numbly accepts the bottle. He shakes his head, bewildered. “Wait, why? Are you leaving?”

What an asshole!

Abandoning citizens in their time of need, good grief. What would all those knights he works with say?

"Shouldn't I?" Felix sounds puzzled again. He pats his armor, finds something of a pocket in it from which to fish out a couple of gold septims. Sure they're not Earth coin, but they're very good around here. "I'm in the middle of research, you know. Important work. I think it's all finally starting to make..."

Wait. Wait back up Felix your new friend looks unhappy. He's not used to that happening. "...Why, do you need something?"

“Um,” he says. “No...”

He shakes his head again. He’s starting to think maybe Felix is just a little socially awkward, in addition to being from a totally different world. Which is fine. His one and only friend in middle school was hella awkward. He shrugs, dismissive. “Go ahead and leave if you've got shit to do. It’s cool.”

But he’s curious, so he’ll ask. “What are you working on? Are you allowed to talk about it?”

Felix nods again. Yes, of course it's cool. He thought it would be. Why does he feel like something's just slightly off-kilter, here? Well, the man is new...

But he does smile at the invitation to explain his research. It's a smile that twists sadly after a moment, though. "You wouldn't like it. But really, I just want to know what I have to do to see my love protected. I want to know how a man walks into the realm of forbidden knowledge and walks out victorious. I want to know what the real difference is between binding an elemental and binding the dead. I want..."

He tilts his head down at Freddy. "To be of service. That's all."

Speaking of which... he looks down at the coins he's holding, bends over to offer them to Freddy. "You ought to go eat something, you know. Remind me to buy you a real drink, next time."

“I understand.” He nods solemnly. That was so beautiful. Although he doesn’t know anything about forbidden knowledge, binding elementals, or binding dead people—the rest he understands completely, or believes he does. It sounds romantic. Noble. That annoying incident with the magic and the spilled beer is entirely forgiven and forgotten.

“Thank you,” he says. He's already had something to eat: Doritos. That chips don’t count as an actual meal never occurs to him. He still needs to find a motel for the evening though, and having a little extra money couldn’t hurt.

“Hey,” he says, making eye contact one more time before Felix is able to run off. It’s a little too intense, and he is almost overly sincere when he tells him, “Good luck on the research, dude. I hope you can figure it out.”

Felix meets his eyes and smirks, Freddy's oddly sincere sentiment just seeming to encourage him. This man understands. This man sees the value of what he's doing. He'd surely understand even better if Felix could stop to explain it all.

"Thank you. I have no doubt I will." He makes a surprisingly graceful bow for a man who looks barely on his feet, and flashes Freddy a grin as he straightens. "And no doubt we'll meet again, my friend."

He turns to stroll off on his merry way- but he does call back after a few steps, "Oh, and if you do speak with the sheriff - tell him Felix sent you."

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super_cool - 2017-08-02 20:26 (UTC) - Expand

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